Jeff Rand had a tough, athletic appearance that suggested he may be a good friend or a nasty foe. Women had a gut feeling that he would be a very satisfying lover. Most of all, he appeared to be King Charles II of England dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit in an anachronistic manner. His secretary, Kathie O’Grady, who had the curvaceous features of a Renaissance goddess, walked in as he was getting to his feet. Rand went back to his car and circled the home while admiring the assortment of handguns kept in the basement garage.
There were about thirty different all-metal handguns, ranging from percussion to wheel lock. Mick Mc Kenna had placed his finger exactly where the pain was. Rand was severely injured; the Tri-State Agency received no compensation for the nice, dramatic murder.
Someone would need to be convinced to provide funding for such an inquiry. preferably some unjustly accused innocent person. Someone who could best defend themselves by exposing the genuine bad guy. They were attempting to determine if he was an ally or an adversary as they stared at him carefully. The subsequent month saw events unfold through a deepening fog of rumors, official statements, speculative reporting, and plain lies.
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